New Year!

Here we are, stepping into another so called ‘New Year’. We, as Kurdish people, have gone through a lot. The year 2016 was one of the most severe years for us, no one ever wants to return to. Who knows what will the year 2017 surprise us with this time. We are sick of seeing heartbreaks, dusty faces, bloody streets, muddy tears, stained cheeks, starving bodies.
Will the year 2017 be the end of torture and oppression? Will all refugees and IDP’s say farewell to misery and uprootedness?
Will our women and girls  have equal access to freedom of speech and decision-making?

It is still winter. I hope our refugees and disadvantaged people get warm and cosy shelters. I hope their kids have enough light to find their pathways and pursue their passions.
Let’s hope that everything will turn out the way we hoped it would.

I am not starting my New Year celebrating, partying, dancing, cooking and travelling. There is so much going on right now. We do not have enough electricity, most of us have to think of how to afford kerosine for the upcoming winter days. It is hard to think about thousands of Peshmargas who have left their families in such a hard time fighting against ISIS.
I want to celebrate this New Year by posting a poem for those who see and feel the pain of disadvantaged people in this war torn region, especially children.

Rubbles

Hello!

this time

I am not playing hide and seek!

I don’t know

how I got stuck

under the rubble, here.

Can you hear me!

Sorry!

My voice’s dusty

and unclear

I promise

This time

I won’t cry for

chocolate,

cakes and biscuits

I can’t even

recall their colors

in this darkness.

 

Could you call mommy please,

not my dad.

His face was covered

with tomato paste,

some guys took him away.

Hello!

The world’s collapsed

on my tiny back,

can you hear me?                         Sarwa, January 1st 2017